


Before I Fall

by HorribleFanfictions



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorribleFanfictions/pseuds/HorribleFanfictions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>!nk is a little band you might call Punk. Unless you hadn't of ever heard of it of course, like Harry Styles.</p><p>Sometimes he wished he never saw that little flyer that was nailed onto that lamp post, but then he remembers who he never would of met. That hilarious, frequently wasted, adorable, bipolar, frustrating boy. Louis fucking Tomlinson.</p><p>*Larry/Ziall Punk AU*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

I gasp loudly as my feet come out from under me and I begin falling. While I try to block my face from the concrete with my arms, the kid that had just tripped me and his little gang took off in the opposite direction. By the time my hands have reached my ears my nose has already connected with the sidewalk. Before the rest of my body can be caused any excruciating pain my balled fist land on the sidewalk and a push myself up, grabbing a wooden lamp post to steady myself.

"What the Flack?" I mutter to myself, chuckling quietly at my own joke despite the pain.

When I was still in school my Maths teacher was a woman named Ms. Flack. Ms. Flack had a strange obsession over me and my " endless, vivid green eyes" that my friends always liked to laugh and joke about. A lot has changed since then, though. All my friends are gone now, besides Liam. Liam is a real nice guy who just so happens to go to Uni with me. Sometimes I think that's the only reason he still hangs out with me, because he's so nice. I can't even imagine why anybody would even attempt to be friends with me anymore. I'm not the same cheeky kid I used to be. Now I've always got my nose buried in a text book or two. My hands are usually busy writing down notes or typing up speeches and presentations. I don't even sing much anymore.

I groan audibly as I realise I've become one of those men who are all work and no play. Damnit, I always swore I'd never be like that.

A huge gust of wind from my right attacks me and sweeps me off my feet, quite literally. I stumble backwards on my two left feet and fall onto the cold, wet sidewalk.

"Ouch,"

I stand to my feet again and begin turning around so I can cross the, probably busy, street. Then a, slightly wet, white piece of paper smacks me in the face. A muffled sigh escapes my lips as I slap at the paper, searching for a grip. When I'm finally able to pull it off of me I see a large, green dick drawn in marker. 

Really?

I sigh again and flip it around, looking for the ad that must be on the front.

It was all black and white except the blood red title that read:

" !NKED Live Gig. Sunday night, 9:30, at the Amateur Center."

The colorless picture beneath was of a band performing on a tiny stage. What must of been the lead singer had his dark hair styled up in a messy quiff and his eyes were rimmed heavily with eyeliner. He wore a dark, skin tight, long sleeve shirt and matching jeans. The guitarist behind him, who must of also been singing for he had a microphone placed in front of him, had lighter hair and wore a baggy, white tank top with dark skinny jeans. His naked arms had tattoos running all along them and the left of his bottom lip had a ring clinging to it. The very last guy, who also must have been a singer, stood behind a large keyboard. His bright, wispy hair was in such a damn mess that it made me feel like my crazy curls were perfectly fine. He also wore the dark skinny jeans but he had on a short sleeved, "Guns and Roses" T-Shirt. Just like the guitarist he had very many tattoos and a lip piercing, along with the two that clung to his left eyebrow.

"Great, another Boy Band. Just what this world needs," I mutter and stuff the paper into my back pocket. 

I chuckle to myself as I look over the busy street and realise that this paper just may have saved my life.


	2. The Loneliest

A loud yawn escapes my lips as I stretch my arms, high. I fall back against the un-comfortable mattress, the springs squeaking loudly. I roll off the bed, lazily, and shuffle my way to the bathroom's dark door. Quickly after shoving the door open, I slam it back shut. Shaking my head in hope of getting the image of my roomate and the random hook up out of my mind.

" Josh, it's nine in the damn morning!" I holler at the door.

Slipping on a pair of black jeans and my converse I walk to the front door. Grabbing a random jumper and tugging it over my head, I leave. I jog down the stairwell, slowly, and gasp as I step out into the cold.

"Damn, winter morning. Cold as hell....doo-da-doo-da..." I sing under my breath, chuckling as I did so. "Oh the doo-da-day. Oh the doo-da-day. The walk to the library is five miles long. doo-dah-doo-dah,"(A/N The song is on the side )

A few days ago I found an American girl Josh brought over humming something to this tune and it's been stuck in my head ever since. She sang a few of the words, not many though. Just things like "Doo-da-doo-da" and that must be important to the song.

I rub my hands together rapidly as I try to rid myself of the bitter coldness beginning to take over my body. After about fifteen minutes I don't really mind the cold anymore. I keep singing random songs under my breath as I make my way to my favorite library.

"And I can't change. Even if I tried, even if I wanted to. And I can't change. Even if I tried, even if I wanted to. My love, my love, my love, she keeps me warm. She keeps me warm. She keeps me warm. She keeps me warm," I softly sung the words to my favorite song.

My singing comes to a stop as I begin to climb the snow covered, concrete stairs in front of the two story building. I rush to the tall, glass door and pull it open slowly. Trying my best not to be too loud, I make sure it closes softly behind me. The welcoming smell of the old books welcome me as I make my way across the light brown carpet to the nonfiction section of the library. 

"Africa. Africa. Africa. Africa," I hum quietly, searching up and down the shelves filled with books of all shapes and sizes. 

A small, black book with a red, yellow, and green flag on the cover finally catches my attention. It reads:

" Africa: Ghana and The United Kingdom."

"Aha!" I say to myself, earning a glare from a small girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, that sat at one of the round tables.

"Sorry," I whisper to her, apologetically. 

She only rolls her dark blue eyes at me and looks back down to her thick book, her bright red hair falling off her shoulders and covering her face.

'Fine, cunt,' I think to myself as I walk away, searching for another table. I'm pretty sure it'd be a little awkward if I sat with the young diva.

I finally find an empty table near the back of the quiet library. The lighting is a slighty dimmer back here compared to the rest of the place, but it make's it feel a bit...cosy. I curse under my breath as I realise I didn't bring anything to write with nor write on. 

"I'll just have to take notes mentally," I mutter.

I get comfortable in the small, wooden chair, stretching my legs across the table and holding the book high above my head before I begin reading. After about an hour of me flipping through pages, getting up to get another book, and having to pop my back I hear a feminine chuckle from behind me followed by,

"Stripes?" 

I furrow my eyebrows together slightly and look down at myself. A small grimace forms on my lips as I see that I'm wearing a tight, red and black striped jumper that my mum bought for me when I was about fifteen. At least I work out, right?

I chuckle to some degree and look over my shoulder to the speaker. To say the least, what I see isn't exactly what I was expecting. A guy around my age stands there in a dull, grey jumper and grey skinny jeans that only goes to his ankles. Paired with some black converse. On the tip of his small nose rest big, black square glasses. What throws me off though, was that even though he looks like your normal nerd or bookworm he also has small, black gauges in his earlobes, two small, bulb-like silver piercings along the bottom of his bottom lip, I believe they're called snake bites, and two rings clinging to the end of his left eyebrow. One was hot pink and the other was a dark blue. His wild, wispy, dyed red hair falls over his right eye as he cocks his head to the side. He waves a hand in front of my face slowly. 

" 'Ello? Kid?"

I shake my head for a second or two, snapping out of my daze and lift my green eyes to meet his icy blue ones.

"Yeah?" I answer quietly, cautiously.

"I said I like the stripes, you queer," he chuckles and smiles down at me, warmly.

While I sit there, dumbfounded at the way his words in no way matched his expression, he leans over and ruffles my curls before walking off, his Shakespeare book still in his left hand. I quickly pick my jaw up from off the floor and turn back around, muttering nonsense under my breath. 

"Damn, he was hot," I whisper to myself when I'm positive he's left.

After about another hour of my studies I hear another feminine laugh followed by,

"I still love the stripes,"

I turn around again, faster than I think I ever have in my life.

"Hello! Back ag-Flack?" I say, bewildered.

"Harry, you remember me!" She squeals, excitedly.

"Yeah..." I trail off as she drags me off the chair and into her arms.

She presses my chest against her's as she squeezes me into a tight hug and I cringe as I come to the realisation that there is no way in hell she's wearing a bra. She lets me go, reluctantly, and I smile, probably not for the reason she thought.

"So much has happened, Harry," She exclaims, dramatically.

"Uhm, you changed your hair?" I take a wild guess, noticing the blonde tips.

"Well, aren't you a charmer?" She giggles while I mentally cringe, again. "But no, Harry, I meant you! You've grown so much, haven't you? Just look at yourself! Your hair is so beautiful! Your eyes must be even greener, if that's possible! Oh, and your so tall now! Your cheeks are so defined! You're so handsome! Who's the lucky girl?" She rambles while running her manicured fingertips over my cheeks and through my hair.

"Uhm...I'm gonna run to the washroom for a second, yeah?" I excuse myself, nervously, before rushing off to the public toilets.

I run through the tall, white door into the empty, stall filled room. I rest my back on a wall next to a sink and slide down it, onto the clean, tiled floor. As I rest in the corner I wrap my long arms around my knees and pull them to my chest.

"She's going to kill me. She's going to....Bloody hell, I don't want to get raped," I say to myself, frantically.

I grip the edge of the nearest sink with my sweaty hands and pull myself up. As I look at my reflection I wonder to myself,

"What the hell does she see in me? Why does she see it? And why the hell won't she leave me alone?!"

I yank at the handles beside the faucet and drench a paper towel in the cold, clear water. Patting my forehead with the damp towel I turn the water off and turn around. Throwing the towel away, I open the door and walk slowly back to my old teacher. When I find my way back to the circular table Ms. Flack stands from the chair she was seated in and walks to me.

"I've really gotta run, Harry, but if you need anything you know where I'll be from five-five, yeah?"

"Yeah," I nod and wave, vigorously, encouraging her to leave.

Before she's even out of my sight I let out a heavy sigh an fall into my chair. My balance must be slightly off though, for my bum somehow lands on the other side of the chair.

"Ouch," I mutter, as I pull myself up off the floor. Only to have my feet trip over each other, causing me to fall forward and land on my face. "Dammit,"

 

I breathe in the wonderful smell of fresh cookies, fresh bread, fresh coffee, fresh tea, and all the other things that come with the nearby bakery, as I open the small, windowed door, the bell ringing above my head.

"Harry!" I hear my friend of many years, Liam, holler to me, walking around wooden counter.

"LiLi!" I call back in the same manner.

He smiles as he wraps me in a tight embrace, nuzzling his face into my neck.

"You haven't came by here in forever," he says, sadly, against my skin.

"I know, I'm sorry. I think I have a story that might make you feel a little better though," I reply, as I rub his back, leisurely.

"Is it better than going back home, to my room, and watching all the Toy Stories?" He questions, in all seriousness. 

I adjust myself so that my chin rest comfortably against his brunette curls, before I speak again.

"No way, so we can do that later if you want," I say, a smile tugging at my lips. "I've done all my studying for the day,"

He pulls back, astonishment dancing in his big, brown eyes. His mouth falls open as he stares at me.

"Are you kidding me?!" He exclaims, a huge smile spreading across his face.

I beam back at him, shaking my head, wholeheartedly.

"Really? I'll go take today off. Right now. I-I-I-I'll be right back! Don't move an inch!"

He runs off somewhere behind the kitchen doors and I examine my converse, bored. I look around the bakery that I once worked at a couple years ago, before I started Uni. As I explore the small shop with my eyes, I find many familiar faces and lose myself in thought, reminiscing.

I see the old woman sitting at one of the three tables with her walker resting on her seat. Her purple trench coat is very distinctive and I recognise her immediately. Nancy, she always got a loaf of Buttermilk bread on Thursday. To her left I see Wayne, her husband, he had fought in some war and has been sitting in the same wheelchair ever since. He was always the friendliest man and informed us about anything going on with his grandchildren. At another one of the tables sat a middle aged woman with dark brown curls cascading down her shoulders, Alice, and a young boy sitting on her lap. That must be oliver. He must be about 4 now. Alice always walked here with her husband even though she was pregnant.

"Harry," I hear Liam whine in my ear, snappy me out of my trance.

"Yeah?" I answer, turning my head to my left so I could face him.

"I can't take off right now, but I can at twelve. If you have somewhere to be you can go, I don't want to make you wait an hour for me," He finishes with a sad smile on his lips.

"You think I have somewhere to be?" I scoff," That, Sir, is ridiculous!... What's troubling you? Don't deny it can see it in your puppy-like face," I tease.

"So you'll wait with me?"

"Hell yes, I will! Hey, you didn't answer my question. What's up with you?" I repeat.

"I could ask you the same question," he retaliates. "You're awfully out of it aren't you?"

"Liam." I warn, my voice barely above a whisper. "What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right? No matter how big, no matter how small."

I cup his face with my hands while I say this, making it impossible for him to turn away.

"It's nothing. I just...I....I just never get to see you anymore. Did you know it's been over four months since you've visited me here? We haven't held a conversation for more than five minutes in a couple of weeks. Last time you came over to Ed's and my room was about two months ago and we go to the same Uni. It just....it just doesn't make any sense, Harry. I miss you, your mum misses you, Ed misses you, even his damn cat misses you. A cat!" He finishes with a lifeless chuckle." I just....I don't know...you're not you anymore and it's killing me, I guess." He adds, looking down to his feet.

"Liam, calm down," I say with a smile, It was great to know somebody missed me. Two somebodies and a cat."Lets just get you back to work, yeah? We can talk while you do so,"

I pull him in for a short, tight hug then shove him back towards his work station, laughing quietly as he trips over his own feet. He turns around and glares at me, stopping my laughter immediately.

"Seriously though, you've got another hour. Go," I give him the shooing motion with my hands while I say this.

"Fine," He mutters, walking back to the counter.

After an hour of Liam catching me up on things like his new girlfriend Dani, Ed's Gigs, his turtles, which I didn't really need to know about, and what's been going on with the bakery, Liam throws on his heavy, black jacket and we leave. It's not as cold as it was when I first left my room, considering it's noon, but the cold still nips at my nose and burns the back of my throat. When we make it back to his and Ed's room I'm met by a very tired yet happy cat rubbing against my leg and Ed, my ginger, tackling me to the ground. We all settle down after running to the store to get snacks, a few minutes of Ed telling us pointless stories and me telling them all about my encounter with Flack, and decide to watch the Toy Stories. All of them. Liam says every word and still seems genuinely surprised when something happens the whole time and Ed falls asleep eventually.

The screen turns black as all the credits to the last movie come to an end and I stand to my feet and walk to the door, turning around to say goodnight to Liam. He's already fast asleep though, so I walk to his bed quietly and drag one of his blankets over to him, tucking him in gently.

"Good night, Li," I murmur, kissing him on the forehead softly.

I leave quietly and jog the rest of the way to my room. As I open the door I'm surprised to see that Josh, my roommate, isn't with a girl but fast asleep on the floor. I let out a sigh as I lift him into my arms and rest him onto his twin size bed, pulling the white comforter over him. I finally fall backwards onto my small bed, letting my eyelids flutter close. Before sleep takes over though an idea pops into my head and I reach over and grab my laptop, opening my eyes. I open the white device and type in my user name and password, quick.

USERNAME: FatAss

PASSWORD: Meow

I type the name of the only social site I've used in years, twitter, and check over all the things that Gemma Styles, Ed Weesley, and PayneInTheButt have posted. They're the only ones I follow. As I come across the last two messages posted by Liam my breath hitches and I feel tears come to my eyes.

" The people who are always trying to make everybody happy are usually the Loneliest. Stop trying to keep your professors proud, screw up once! Stop trying to be the perfect kid for your parents, go wreck a car! Stop doing what your friends want, voice an opinion! Stop following the rules, break a promise! Just stop. I hate seeing you like this. It's killing me inside and I just want the old you back. Stop trying to make us happy, it's just hurting us to see you like this. "


	3. I have a Fiance

I stumble over my feet as I lift myself off my bed, groggy. I hadn't gotten much sleep last night. Actually, to be put correctly, I didn't get any. After reading that tweet I had been zombie. Slowly moving, stumbling, fumbling, muttering, groaning, shaky breaths. I wasn't quite sure what to think about it. 

Until now.

Liam was right. There's no way I can keep living like this, knowing I may be hurting the few people that have stuck around these past few years. So, I've decided I'm only going to do what is necessary for me to get a good grade, not above and beyond. There was no need for that. It's not like my mum would know. It's not like my teachers would care now, let alone in a few years. I've also decided that I'm going to live a little. No, I'm not going to get completely pissed off my ass every chance I get, or start smoking, or even begin sleeping around. I may have a beer here or there, nothing more. The last thing I've thought about was music. Should I start singing again? I've been thinking about it on and off for a few months, but have never actually gotten my microphone back out. It's still lying there, probably covered in dust, underneath my bed.

I groan lowly and lift my arms high above my head as I saunter over to the shared washroom. After entering the small, white room I reach over to the faucet resting on the wall, beneath the shower head and pull. The hot water causes steam to fill the room immediately and I jumped into the shower quickly, washing myself with my plain, Ivory body wash and running a handful of some random shampoo through my brunette curls. I stand in the shower until the water becomes icily cold, about an hour, then shut off the water and grab a dark blue towel, wrapping it around my small waist. Just as I pull open the door to the washroom I hear a noise rarely heard blaring from my bed. My ringtone. The electronic noises play randomly until I rush over to the cell phone and press it to my ear.

"Yes?" I ask, bemused.

"Harry!" I hear a woman's voice cry happily from the speaker.

"Uhm, who is this?" I ask, as politely as possible.

"This is Caroline, Harry," She says, and I can practically hear the smile in the stranger's voice.

"Who?"

"Caroline Flack, you little weirdo. We just spoke yesterday," She exclaims, as if I should have already known.

"Uhm...How-Uh-what? Why? I don't- what?" I fumble.

"When you ran off I spent my time putting my number in your phone!" Flack replies.

"Then how do you have my number?" I question as my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"I made you text me," She explains, as if I should already know this. Which I probably should!

"Oh," I mutter, completely dumbfounded.

"I was going to ask you something though! Do you want to hang out sometime? You know, for old times sake?"

Old times sake? There was no old times sake you damn pedophile.

I search my side of the room for anything that I could possibly use as an excuse. My searching comes to an immediate halt as my eyes rest upon the small, black and white flyer I had found, been attacked by, yesterday. Perfect.

"Well....I would but...I really would...but I'm actually going to this gig later, so sorry." I apologise, beaming to myself.

"Oh...Well, I could go with you! If that's alright?"

Fuck. If I say friend she'll still come. Fuck. If I say girlfriend she'll try to win me over. Fuck. If I say boyfriend she'll just try to be "the one that changes me". Fuck-

"Fiance," The words fall out of my mouth, without me even giving them the right.

"Wha-"

"Fiance. I'm going with my Fiance, so sorry." I say quickly as I hang up and glance over to the small flyer.

"Looks like you've saved me again, huh?" I question.


End file.
